Hi- yay! here's chapter eleven! I finished it quicker than I thought I would. This one's a bit longer and more intense. Emotionally it will hopefully be explained a bit in later chapters. I'm wondering if we could make it to 100 reviews, waaaaa! I love all you people who read and comment! anyway,

Enjoy!

There were two practice rooms at the Institute: a large square one with punching bags and mats for sparring and hand-to hand, and a long thin one with targets for knife throwing and archery. It was to this second one Jace went first. He stopped in the armory on the way for a selection of knives, stars, and a bow and quiver of arrows, which he didn't especially like, they were more of Alec's thing, but Hodge was always telling him to get used to. Church watched him with unblinking yellow eyes as he stretched his arms, wrists, and shoulders, selected a dagger and took aim. He whipped his arm down and sent it flying through the air towards a target. It sunk half-way up the blade in the second ring. He sent four after it in quick succession. Not one hit the center. He took up the bow and selected an arrow, aimed for one of the high targets. His shoulder cramped on release, the arrow hit the wall and rebounded, fell to the floor with a light clacking sound. Church twitched his tail scornfully.

Jace turned on the cat. "Don't you have something better to do? Chase mice? Overdose on catnip?" Yellow eyes blinked once, slowly, then Church began studiously washing himself. Jace dropped the bow on the floor, swung his arm to stretch the shoulder. Imogen had told him always to warm up first, back when she still bothered to say things like that. Screw her anyway. Jace picked up the bow again and put it and the knives back in the armory. He went to the other training room.

The first time Jace hit the punching bag it rebounded and almost knocked him over. He cursed at himself, at being stupid, at the fact that his hands were shaking. He hit the weighted leather until he was drenched in sweat and out of breath. He stripped of his shirt and hit it until his knuckled were raw. For the first time in years he felt like crying.

Someone opened the door and walked into the room. Jace turned,

"Alec--" but it wasn't. Clarissa stood there, in shorts and a black t-shirt, her red hair braided back. He felt a jolt when he saw her, somehow, when she'd left him at Taki's he'd believed he'd never see her again. He'd excepted never seeing her again, he'd never wanted to see her again. And now here she was, still here, after all. He blurted out the question in his head. "Why are you here?" The words hung between them, suspended and unfinished. She walked closer to him. Somehow, despite being barely up to his shoulder, managed to look down on him.

"You mean why am I here in this room, or why am I here even after you made it clear that you didn't want me anywhere near you? Because I really hope you don't think everyone cares that much about your opinion." He felt the anger from yesterday boiling up inside him again.

"When the Lightwoods find out what you did—"

And suddenly she was in his face, her voice intense and on the edge of anger. "What I did? Tell me what did I do, Jace Herondale, because I keep hearing that from everybody, and I sure as hell don't know what they mean. So tell me what did I do?" Her voice was cracking on the last words.

He was so mad. "Your father—"

Now she was yelling, "My father? What does—"

Jace's rage burst out of him like a tidal wave. "He's—You're—The reason my father's dead, the reason my mother is—Is—The reason Imogen doesn't care about—!"

"So now you're blaming your familyproblems on me?"

"Maybe it's because they're your fault!"

"And maybe it's because you're a pathetic little boy with daddy issues!" She spit the words in his face, cruel, demeaning. And he hit her. Without thinking. He'd never hit a girl, he'd never wanted to. He'd never hated a girl before.

He felt his fist connect with her face and for a second he saw her eyes very clearly, wide and green and... sad. They looked like the eyes of a child. Then stars swam before his vision and he couldn't breathe, because she'd slammed him hard enough to knock him to the floor. He was re-oriented and back up again in a second. Gasping. And angry. They were grasping at each other, hitting and punching and kicking like school children. Blindly.

It reminded Jace of the ugliest close contact fights he'd been in. Except she was faster than anyone he'd ever fought. He didn't know how long it lasted, every second was stretched out, long as infinity, yet too short to move the way he wanted to because she was every where and his head was spinning. There would be a moment when he'd manage to catch her and they were evenly matched, then she'd get away and have the upper hand again. They were close enough that neither could completely dominate. It took everything he had but finally he found an opening. He swung forward.

And she ducked neatly to the left, jammed her elbow painfully into his side, caught his arm, flipped him and pinned him. He saw her eyes; blank, hard, cold. Her fist came down to crush his windpipe in one swift blow. And he knew she would do it, kill him.

Her hand stopped. Barely brushing his neck. The fist relaxed. The fingers that touched his skin were shaking. He looked up, her eyes were very bright, all the coldness gone. They were like a child's eyes again, soft and alive. Her head jerked suddenly to the side, breaking eye contact. Because the door had opened and Alec stood there looking shocked.

"Oh," he said. "Uh... the takeout is... here." Jace realized what they might look like, Clarissa straddling his bare chest, one hand around his wrist, the other against his neck. He was acutely conscious of the warmth of her bare legs and hands. She jerked away from him as if he had burned her, stood up, walked past Alec and out the door. She didn't once look back.

Alec's eyes followed her then turned back to Jace. "You weren't...?" Jace shook his head and started to get to his feet, then swore loudly and almost collapsed. Alec got a good look at him for the first time. Apparently the bruises were starting to show because his eyes went wide and he made a strange whistling noise as the breath went out of him in surprise. "Angel, Jace. What did she do to you?"